Devious Intentions
by GameTripSnap
Summary: BrookeSam Femslash.  Brooke can't believe it.  How could Sam do that? Why?


Disclaimer: Ryam Murphy owns them. I'm just making them more interesting

Pairing(s): Brooke/Sam and a lil' surprise!

Femslash warning: (I went a bit further then my last fic) Don't like the 'girl on girl'? Buh-bye!

* * *

"She did _what_?! Nic, are you sure?" After a confirming nod, "Oh, okay she's so dead." Brooke was mad. No scratch that. She was furious. "How could she?" She asks her two best friends _and_ the Novak, judging by her volume. This was it. THIS was the last straw! She's pacing now but she's so enraged that this doesn't go through. "Nic! How can you tell me something like _that_ and jus-just-just SIT there and file your-" Screw complete sentences, Brooke decides and yanks the nail filer away from the shorter blonde flying it across the circular bathroom.

Mary Cherry watches forlornly as it was _her_ cuticle maintenance tool (Not Nic's) soaring through the air, in devastating slow motion, and ending in one of the extremely unsanitary toilets with a 'plop' never to do battle against blunt, broken, or rough fingernails again…. "Ugh! Brooke! Now, whay d'ya hafta take yer angar out on mah poor dee-feen-sles manny-coo-yer set?" The Texan asks kneeling over the toilet and beginning to weep. "Eet nuver did not nuthin ter yew!"

"What?" Brooke never could understand one thing that came out of MC's mouth but the dramatic display had served to distract the livid blonde from her rage towards her soon-to-be-**dead** housemate. For about 2 seconds. Then she remembered. Oh how she remembered! And then she started pacing again.

"Brookie stop pacing you're giving me a headache." Nicole said after she finished silently hysterically laughing at Mary Cherry's sorrow. Bonus points because it was her fault!

"No, no I will not stop pacing!" Brooke all but screamed. "Stop acting so calm what am I going to do?" She asked the two. Somewhere in the back of her mind wondering if Mary Cherry was wearing funeral attire 5 minutes ago. And where did she get those candles?

"What do you want to do?" Nicole countered from the mirror where she was re-applying her new copper penny lip stick. It gave her that shimmer that she just loved so much… _and_ it matched her skirt!

"I want to find her. I want to find her and kill her." Brooke stated vehemently stealing one of the pillows that MC was sobbing into, mentally turning it into a 'Voodoo Sam-doll' and trying (and failing miserably) to rip it in half. She was breathing heavily and emitting strange noises of the 'whimpering' variety after 15 seconds of this workout.

"Then go do that!" Nicole said after winking at her perfection-err, I mean-reflection. "Thank you"

Brooke was out the door in two seconds flat going so fast she almost knocked over the Priest that was on his way to the Novak.

Sam McPherson sat in her office. She was smiling. How could she not? Everything was falling into place. And any second now Brooke would storm in. Why wasn't she scared? After what she had done, why wasn't she hiding under her desk with a high powered tranquilizer? Because she knew something. Something about Brooke. And Sam fully intended on taking advantage of the information. She started unbuttoning her crisp white long sleeve dress shirt… any second now…

"You!" Brooke screamed and burst into the schools small newspaper office. "Yoooouuu!" She drew out the word scornfully. Rushing towards her nemesis' desk and pointing her finger accusingly.

"Who? Me?" Sam said faux innocence. She knew what she did. And she knew exactly what she was going to do now. Correction: _doing_ now. She continued the unbuttoning.

"Yes! You! Y-you…." Brookes blinding rage had thus far preventing the blonde from realizing exactly what Sam was doing, until the shirt was gone, that is. Brooke's eyes dropped down to Sams… Sams... a slow warmth spread through a _very_ nether region of Brooke. "You…." Brooke was a statue now. A statue leaning over Sam's desk pointing at the journalists' chest.

"Me?" Sam said slower her voice dropping an octave. A slow, seductive smile forming on her lush red lips. She stood up, walking around the desk to meet an overheating Brooke on the other side. But Brooke was still in statue mode. Easy fix, Sam thought pushing Brooke up against the wall pinning the slightly taller girl there with her body.

Sam's hand slowly snaked itself up to the nape of Brooke's neck, her thumb tracing the speechless blondes jaw line. They stayed like that for a moment; Brooke still trying to comprehend the fact that Sams top was not on Sam anymore therefore making Sam… topless?... and Sam, just savoring that electric adrenaline that seemed to be pulsing through them.

On the other hand there were other things that Sam could be enjoying. Closing her eyes and bringing their lips together slowly she heard the other girl gasp but not pull away. Sam pressed further and felt her insides set fire after a moment when Brooke started to respond. Sam slid her tongue across Brookes bottom lip tasting strawberries, seeking entrance. Soon tongues battled for dominance and Brooke was emitting more strange sounds like earlier but these were more of the 'moaning' variety. Sam pulled away, it was her turn to be breathing heavily now while Brooke began stammering incoherently. Sam deciphered it as something to do with 'Wow'

"Shhh," Sams index finger silenced the blonde, leaning in to the girl, "Don't ask why, Princess, just accept." The smirking brunette said so close to Brookes ear that her breath… So warm… and then… lick?!

Brooke's brain was defiantly short circuiting. The blonde barely registered Sam moving away from her. Then a few seconds later she was back, buttoning up her dress shirt. God she looked hot in that. _Not as hot as not in that. _What? That didn't make any sense! Oh great now she was having internal arguments when she could be making out with... Hey where'd Sam go? She spun around.

"See you at home!" The smirking journalist said with a wink before closing the door.

And then Sam was gone.

She let her go? She-she'd just let Sam go? After what Sam did. She let her go?! And live? An-an-and be _alive_?!

She couldn't figure it out, but she knew. _Now_ she knew; that without a doubt, it was because it was Sam.

**(The next day)**

"So?"

"It worked."

"Of course it worked, Spam. It was my plan! Thank you."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"I wasn't asking about that. I was asking about _your_ end of the bargain! Did you do it?"

"You'll see…"

"That doesn't make me feel any better"

"Oh, look at the time! I gotta go; Brooke want's to walk me to class! Buh-bye!" Smiling triumphantly the brunette exits the Novak.

"She better have done it." Nicole says to the Novak and sits down on one of the couches nervously fixing the collar on her own crisp white long sleeve dress shirt.

A few seconds later…

"You!"

"Oh, hello Lily!"

"Yoooouuu!"

"Who? Me?"

* * *

Me singing: So so so Scandalous! (by Mis-teeq)


End file.
